Another scintillating mind in government

So it seems our progessive friends in Hawaii are trying to ban Diet Coke. Really.

HAWAII MOVES TO BAN ASPARTAME (NUTRASWEET)

Dr. Betty Martini, D.Hum.
Mission Possible World Health International
9270 River Club Parkway
Duluth, Georgia 30097

23rd January 2008

Senate Bill 2506 introduced by Senator Kalani English, and also signed by Senator Suzanne Chun-Oakland, as well as House Bill 2580 sponsored by Representative Millie Carroll will move to ban aspartame from the State of Hawaii.

Efforts continue to ban this deadly excitoneurotoxic carcinogenic drug that is addicting the public and triggering so many symptoms and diseases from MS, lupus and seizures to Parkinson's, diabetes, obesity and even blindness and death. An aspartame documentary, "_Sweet Misery: A Poisoned World_ (http://www.soundandfury.tv/pages/rumsfeld2.html)", explains how Donald Rumsfeld got this marketed when the FDA said no.

Masquerading as an additive it's a deadly drug that interacts with other drugs and vaccines. No one can forget the gallant efforts of Senator Gerald Ortizy Pino who sponsored the Senate bill to ban aspartame in New Mexico. One picture that remains in my mind is addressing the Senate with Senators sipping Diet Coke. Dr. Ken Stoller said "It's hard to believe we are going to get anywhere with you drinking this but consider the children (my emphasis). _"Aspartame is a teratogen triggering birth defects and mental retardation, reducing IQ, and triggering all types of behavioral and psychiatric problems."_ (http://www.mpwhi.com/report_on_aspartame_and_children.htm)

There is more but you get the idea. I found out about this from an enthusiastic post to our local homeschooling list. Here was the response I posted:

There definitely is a move to introduce this bill in Hawaii.

However, Snopes.com says that claims that research has shown aspartame to be a neurotoxin or carcinogen are false.

http://www.snopes.com/medical/toxins/aspartame.asp

Perhaps Snopes is outdated. If so, and if people know of scientifically-verifiable studies that demonstrate that aspartame really is the generally-deadly drug that it's being claimed to be (as opposed to something that might cause adverse affects in a small number of aspartame-sensitive individuals), I hope they alert Snopes. The Snopes folks are generally very energetic about searching for objectively-verifiable material.

I, personally, am wary of attempts to ban things like this, especially when the scientific/medical community has yet to demonstrate conclusive findings. I'm generally an anti-rubber-room mentality person, as it is.

It makes good discussion material for home education, on the other hand! What is evidence? How do we know things? How do we draw proper conclusions? How are various chemicals processed by the human body? What is the role of the liver? What is good nutrition? How does one select the most nutritious things to eat (and balance that with the most delicious things to eat)? What is the proper role of government in the lives of individuals? Does the fact of Congress declaring something to be true necessarily make it true? All great stuff to talk about, and doing so leads to the kinds of thinkers we home educators are trying to help our children become.

--Deb

"Safety is all well and good: I prefer freedom."
--Louis the Swan to the Zoo Director
--The Trumpet of the Swan, E.B. White

Remember, I have to be diplomatic around Rochester. Most of those parents in the homeschooling list also read KidsOutAndAbout.com, and one of my goals is to be seen as Everywoman with whom people just want to agree.

Wind storm

"Wow, listen to the wind!" I just commented to Ella.

Up to 60-miles-per-hour gusts were forecast for today.

"I can't hear anything. You know why?"

"Why?"

"I'm mostly listening to my thoughts."

Penfield Library book club

Madison went to her third meeting last night of a little 3rd-4th-grade book club at the Penfield Library, Knights of the Reading Table. Last night they discussed The Tale of Devereaux by Kate DiCamillo. I didn't make the connection until David remarked yesterday that DiCamillo was also the author of Because of Winn-Dixie, which we all enjoyed on audio last week. Madison says the two books are VERY different, and that they had a good discussion last night. I hope she doesn't totally dominate the conversation (there were 9 8- and 9-year-olds), but the librarian didn't say anything about it to me on our way out. Madison also really likes a little 3rd-grade boy Ian, who shares her affection for the Secrets of Droon series.

They're reading C.S. Lewis's The Magician's Nephew for next month. She brought it home. She was halfway through it by lights-out, and I'm letting her finish it before school starts this morning. We heard that one on audio about six or seven months ago, but, as Madison put it to the librarian on the way out of the meeting room, "I really need to read it because there's something about the logic that I didn't get on the first time around."

How bad an educator am I?

My children are blissfully cleaning up both of their rooms. Together.

They claim that they have decided that they're entering a new era of cooperation, that Ella is going to sleep in Madison's top bunk, that they're going to use Ella's room as a playroom.

So I'm letting them clean instead of do schoolwork. The happy sounds coming from upstairs are like music.

And, I'm fairly confident that they're doing this really in good faith, and not as a ploy for not having to do schoolwork.

Though how long it will last is anybody's guess.

Update: They're doing schoolwork now. But they're still the best of friends.

Real-life logic

I've just printed out this story from WTOPNews.com: Photo Clues Lead to Camera's Owner for us and the kids.

Seems a woman found a digital camera left in a cab on New Year's Eve. When the cabbie didn't know whose it was and didn't seem to care, Erika and her fiance Brian set out to analyze the photos left on the camera to see whether they could find the owner.

Madison and I have been deep into the logic of piecing together mysteries, lately, as a result of working on the book and constructing this logic in a story ourselves. The reporter, Brian Bergstein, did a great job of tracing and reporting the logic Erika and Brian used to find the owner...whom they found in Sydney, Australia, in about 10 days.

People seem to be pointing to this story mainly as an example of good ethics. But I think it's much more interesting for the laying bare of the logic. How often do we see THAT these days?

Periodic table

Turns out it IS possible to teach atomic structure and the periodic table to little kids!

My chemist friend Monica had been skeptical, told me to skip all of that and just teach molecules and demonstrate them with a MAGZ magnet set, in the sense that 2 hydrogens bond to 1 oxygen to make water.

But there's a science writer, Teresa, who home schools, and she has a web site PrimaryPeriodicTable.com with a downloadable ($10) e-book that you can read to your kids.

No pictures in the e-book, turns out. I was skeptical.

But all I had to do was read to them, and then when we got to the part about the number of electrons possible in each shell, and show how the "missing" electrons made for the sharing possibilities to complete the outer shells with other elements to form molecules. All I had to do was show her that Sodium has an atomic number of 11, which means 2 electrons in the first shell, a complete 8 electrons in the second shell, and only 1 electron in the third shell, which means 7 slots are "available." And then along comes Chloride, with an atomic number of 17, which means 1 slot is available in his third shell, and whammo, then they get together, share the outer-shell electrons, and make salt. We did water, then, and then I explained why the inert gases are inert (complete outer shells).

She GOT it. She really got it.

Ella kind of got it, too.

Poetry turns to paint

The Birthday of the Day yesterday, Robert Burns, got me to thinking of another Robert poet, Robert Frost. I love his poem Birches, I think it's my favorite.

Ella and I have been watching another Bob...Bob Ross. I've been taping all of this episodes way down in channel 433, and he's been inspiring us.

So, today, I finally painted, for real, for the first time in over a year. David took the kids around to their various activities and I spent the day blissfully painting. Birches.

It really makes me happy.

I started out listening to the radio, and that wasn't working at all. WFKL was having an '80s Weekend. A bad idea, to paint while listening to '80s music. Mostly for the memories it conjures up of who I was then. Trust me, don't try to paint while you're thinking of how everything used to suck (well, except for the president).

Then I switched to Copeland. Much better.

Poetry Friday - Robert Burns

It's Robert Burns's birthday. He was born in Scotland (where else?) in 1759. He was only 37 when he died in 1796. The girls didn't really like "To a Louse," although I do. They liked "To A Mouse" marginally better. But they really liked "My Love is Like A Red, Red Rose."

My Love is Like A Red, Red Rose

O my luve is like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonny lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee weel, awhile!
And I will come again, my love
Though it were ten thousand mile

Arrogance?

There is an interesting post about "arrogance" on the Life Without School blog. Are we homeschoolers "arrogant"?

Homeschoolers seem to be rushing to say that we're not any more arrogant than the next person, that it is better to say that homeschooling is a "choice that works best for our family" rather than somehow advocate that everyone do it (as if those opposites were the only possibilities). This is because everyone who knows nothing about homeschooling and even some who do assume that we're doing it because we think they're better than them, that our doing so is in some way a commentary on their not doing it.

I just don't think arrogance is the issue.

These well-meaning folks are mistakenly blending two separate concepts: 1) the conviction that what one is doing is objectively best and 2) the strutting, snotty attitude of nyah-nyah I am better than you. At the Life Without School blog, Tammy says this:

Another implication in saying that homeschoolers are arrogant, is that we think we can educate our kids better than trained, certified teachers, merely by making the choice not to have teachers be our children's full time educators. Although that may be true from a certain perspective, the choice to rarely comes from *just* that opinion. It's not a personal affront to teachers. The choice to educate at home is much bigger than whether we think we're better than teachers. Saying that homeschoolers are arrogant because we think we're better than school teachers is taking a very small issue and making it into a huge deal.

I disagree. For me, it's a huge deal, although of course not the only one, but it's the one that matters most. And it is an affront to teachers; I don't think saying it's not makes it not true. Sure, the wonderful lifestyle that results from this choice is a marvelous bonus. But...am I educating the kids at home because I think I'm better at it than trained, certified teachers? Of course I am. I actually know stuff about the world. I have thought deeply about the way we acquire knowledge. I observe the way my kids learn best, and I tailor how I educate each child to that child's abilities and interests.

In contrast, the "training" that teachers receive sucks. It doesn't consist of knowledge, but of postmodern pedagogical "techniques"--I know, I took some of those Ed School classes in college. And, the brightest porch lights on the block most definitely do not go into teaching, anymore. My very own parents (who, mind you, I am not claiming WERE particularly bright), who were math teachers trained in the late 50s and early 60s, COULDN'T DO MATH. My mother taught eighth-grade algebra. She couldn't do geometry. David is organizing a Summer Math Institute at RIT for high-school math teachers *because they can't do math,* and the official standards do not prepare them to get their students prepared to do math in college.

Am I smarter than the average teacher? Yep. Can I educate my kids much better than the average teacher? Yep. Is this education that my kids are receiving superior to what regular kids in school are getting? Of course. Do I go around strutting about it? Nope. (At least, goodness, I don't think so.) Because that's not the point. In life, the point is never "I can do this and you can't." That approach to life is a waste of time and will never serve one well overall.

But if people read into my decision to homeschool the "arrogance" of my certainty that I can do it better, and that, implicitly, my kids are having a better childhood than others, so be it. They'd better be...a parent's job, having made these little critters, is to give them the best experience, the best start in life possible...and if I saw someone else doing it better, it's my responsibility to analyze what about it is better to see if it's something that my kids should experience too.

That of course doesn't mean that homeschooling is in any way the best option for all, or even most, families. There are other considerations that play in...do I think some of my friends should give up their careers and the money that comes from it, and educate their children at home? No! Parents can ensure that kids get educated in other ways, and therein provide the highest net happiness for the entire family. And, of course, in the ideal free society, the education industry wouldn't have descended into the crappiness that constitutes the majority of today's public schools, and division-of-labor would mean that others, rather than I, would be best suited to educating Madison and Ella.

But for now, it's I. Good thing I love it, and that it works best for our family, and that they don't have to deal with crappy people at a young age, and that they're not saturated with the dumbed-down pop culture and shallow values that one encounters at school, and that they can come into contact with far more people than they could in school, and all the other reasons that people educate their children at home. All of these are nice. But really, my job is to give these kids the best education I can find so that they have a good start in life. I think that this just happens to be me.

And, I think I can be proud of doing a good job, of raising happy, healthy, engaged, educated girls. Not being proud of doing a good job would be, to some extent, denying reality...and depriving myself of the reward that comes from doing something well. It has nothing to do with you, or the next-door neighbor, or the unschoolers down the street, or the Christian homeschoolers around the corner.

An approach to housekeeping

I saw this on one of the homeschooling lists yesterday morning:

Our most successful tactic in joyful cleanup is to "do battle" with the clutter and dirt in a particular area. A sudden, conspiratorial whisper of "There's an enemy in the living room!" boosts the enthusiasm level right through the roof. I send them on a spy mission into the offending room, then they come back and report details of the mess and we make a battle plan (all in whispers, of course), gather our weapons (toy bins, wet wipes, dusters, or just our bare hands), and then ATTACK! It's loud and they run a lot and move fast, so it's best for quick decluttering jobs.

Amy in OH

I like this woman. I should be more like this woman.

And speaking of housekeeping, I'm KEEPING our house in better working order by just having it majorly insulated in the attic. It should save our roof from the awful ice damming that happened last year and did serious damage to our dining room ceiling which I haven't fixed yet because what's the point if it's going to happen again. Instead of insulating the floor more, they insulated the roof, which is far more expensive but far more effective. Here is the coolest picture of them spraying it in:



They did the entire attic, and even staple-gunned in a fire blanket (or so they call it) over the whole thing so now the attic looks almost finished. It looks actually nice. It makes me want to take a couple more hundred dollars and get Mikel the Ukrainian Fixit Guy to put up some drywall. The best thing is, whereas when it was 25 degrees outside it used to feel like maybe 30 in the attic, now it feels like 60 and there is no heating up there. The girls have been playing in it.

Of course, it can't all be good, right? So it seems now that the house sealing trapped a mouse in our dining room ceiling. Which died. Which you can smell from the dining room. I had Greg the Squirrel Guy in and he said, "Yep. That's something dead." He said I had the option of opening the ceiling and trying to take it out, or letting it be, and the smell would totally dissipate in about a week because of it being so cold and dry. He said thank goodness it's not summer.

I opted for the cheap way. And actually, the smell is less, and it's only the 4th day.

The good part of it is that I haven't heard any squirrels or other critters since then, which says to me that possibly (fingers crossed) all their Ways In are blocked and this stone house may once more house just Rosses.

What a snarly day

We had a miserable day yesterday. All of us snarling at each other, none of us feeling quite up to snuff health-wise. So I thought I'd start out with reading history. We're doing the Ancient Israelites, and I'd thought that we could do the section on Food and then maybe go to Wegmans and buy the kind of meal that the Ancient Israelites would have eaten (had they had a Wegmans). They listened edgily for a while, not really eating their breakfast, even when I reminded them that the Ancient Israelites would have killed for some Special K.

After trying for a little while and realizing this whole home-schooling deal wasn't working, I thought -- a shower! They need a shower. It would be a good conceptual break and we can get back to this from a fresh perspective. And they like to shower, particularly together; they make up whole little plays and things in this teeny-tiny shower stall that is in the master bath. (They like it because it has jets from the side as well as the top...a '50s-version of jets, that is, that spray too much water out of ugly pink tile, but it works, at least until the water gets cold.) Well, yesterday the teeny-tiny shower stall was too teeny-tiny for our collective mood and there was only fighting. Clean fighting, but fighting nonetheless. And after they got out, Madison worked herself up into a lather (har!) and had a naked whining fit for like 20 minutes, crouched over the floor heating vent in my bedroom the whole time to keep warm because my bedroom stays at a nice cozy 54 degrees what with all the circa-1920 windows and 15-degree weather outside. I have no idea what that was all about.

So, I gave up. Really. I told the girls that we were just going to listen to the CD we'd gotten the other day from the library, Because of Winn-Dixie (which is excellent and not only because it's read by Cherry Jones), and bake pumpkin pie, and forget about education.

Forget about education?!? You would think that a cheer would have lifted my now-insulated roof (more about that later). But no. They were appalled. "PLEASE, Mom!" they begged. "Please let's do school."

"Forget it," I said. "Don't worry about it. We'll just take a mental health day. Read. Listen to Winn-Dixie. Play Club Penguin. Whatever. I don't feel like educating you people, either."

They didn't much like it. They actually like the structure, the check marks on the list, the sense of minute-by-minute accomplishment. I said, "Pretend it's Saturday."

I got some work done that I needed to get done, but mostly I wasted time in the afternoon by trying to find Timber Rock Lake in Missouri. My Missouri client that sells peonies, daylilies, and irises, whom I spoke with yesterday morning for the first time in a while, has offered to let us use his log cabin on that lake for a few weekdays in May, and boy did I need a vacation yesterday.

Then they had Brownies last night, at which they decorated a couple of cakes for the Juliette Low Unbirthday Party which is Friday night, and all seemed well. David has a cold too, just like me, so we all went to bed with the girls last night. I slept from 9:30-7:15 and I feel like a new woman.

So I'd better get to the whole Education thing.

Ella fine

Ella is fine, now.

But yesterday, she was really sick. So sick that when she was standing at the sink waiting to vomit, she fainted.

I wasn't there. David says it was just about the worst 30 seconds of his life, picking up Ella's limp body after she thunked her head on the stone floor as she collapsed. She came right around, though, thank goodness.

The fainting was just a result of what I'm sure was one of those sudden drops in blood pressure as a result of standing in one place too long when you have a 102 fever, so nothing serious. But still. Ugh. She was really sick the rest of the day yesterday, basically just hanging around in my arms on the couch, not even really wanting to open her eyes to watch a video, dozing sometimes on me, leaning over to vomit into a towel. Words can't describe how heart-wrenching it is for a parent to watch the suffering, so I won't try.

But she started getting better at about dinnertime, kept down some water and popsicles starting then, and was fine (and hungry) when she woke up this morning. One of those 24-hour viruses: miserable, but over quickly, thank goodness. None the worse for wear, aside from a lump on the side of her head from her quick trip to the floor.

The relief is enormous, for all of us.

(What was that, Fates? Oh, shut up.)

Ella sick

Ella is icky-sick, as in fever-started-last-night and throwing-up-started-this-morning sick.

She never gets fevers. I'm positive I could count the number of times she's had one on one hand. Actually, none of us ever gets fevers. I can't remember the last time any of us did.

So, I worry. A worry tempered by reason, because hey, people get fevers. And 101.3 is not much to worry. But still. I Am Mommy. And this 6-year-old is snuggling on my lap as I one-handed type this, with her hot little nose pressed into my neck.

My plants are coming back

I always thought I had kind of a black thumb, when it comes to indoor plants.

I got the idea at the beginning of the month to have watering the plants be part of the girls' morning chores, especially since they both got their very own lemon trees for Christmas.

Now my plants are starting to live again.

You can feel free to smack me in the back of the head.

Ella lost her first tooth yesterday

I took a picture.



Tooth fairy brought $1. Headed to the Dollar Store today.

More on crying

Given as I've written so much about crying lately, I thought I'd include this link to Moreena's very perceptive post yesterday, which included this passage:

In any case, I do know that back when I was at my very saddest, I didn't bother crying over sad melodies. I guess there was too much in real life to cry over, too much effort going into not crying all the damn time. When it comes down to it, crying over a song is really a total luxury. Crying over a song means you have a little sorrow to spare, enough left to spill over at the thought of the travails of True Love.

Moreena's 6-year-old daughter has a liver condition and needs a transplant.

This post of John Enright's had the same effect on me, although of course he didn't mean for it to.

I guess it's the ex-Catholic in me that wants to be actively grateful for the health of my girls, grateful all the time, because somehow that will provide some magic protection against the Fates zapping them.

I am, actually, grateful all the time. And it really does help me not mind the small things.

Taking a Stand in Texas

Laura loaned me the new documentary

Taking a Stand in Texas: The Battle for Home School Freedom

It was produced by the Texas Home School Coalition last year through Laurel Wilson Productions.

Wow, what a fabulous production, and a good education for us to boot. Even we non-Christians were amazed by it. I'm not a group joiner, especially a home school group joiner, but I almost feel compelled to gather a bunch of Rochester-area home schoolers to watch it together, all 76 minutes of it. It's really compelling. I hadn't realized how recently it was that home schoolers were so harassed, and it's so inspiring to hear how the government was fought against successfully in Texas in 1986. We surely benefit from their effort, no doubt about it.

Even the girls were spellbound by it. Madison, especially.

And David and I are still weeping over the NASA woman who testified at that trial how she gave up the opportunity to be the first woman -- the first black woman at that -- in space, in order to home school her kids.

Adrienne, the homeschool section of the Webster Library should DEFINITELY get this on the shelf. It's only $20.

Laura, I'm going to keep this for a very little while to show it to a couple of people, and then I'll send it back, I promise.

Ella crying

Ella is in a crying phase lately. I can't quite figure it out. I'm wondering if maybe it's this in-between-ness that is 6 1/2.

She loves listening to the Nancy Drew books on CD, follows their logic perfectly, remembers details...but she says they've been making her nervous to go upstairs by herself, or go to sleep in her own room, and indeed she bursts into tears sometimes when she's asked to do this. So we're not having any more Nancys for a while.

My cheerful little I'll-try-anything-academic girl has been crying instead of settling down to do her math -- it's multiplication tables, nowadays, using the Math-U-See blocks to do the problem, and then putting little note cards (old business cards of mine written on the back) next to them, and saying the skip counts.

If there is something new for school, instead of figuring it out for herself or even trying to, she cries.

And, most dramatic, the other week when she started a new ballet class, she burst into tears 2/3 of the way in and couldn't go on. I had thought that was done, that she wouldn't go back, but the following week (last Friday) she decided to try again. And, apparently, she started crying right away in class, but told the teacher she just wanted to dance anyway, that she couldn't help it but she was fine. So strange.

She can basically read, now, but I got a sense of just how much she must have skipped in that Fairy book the other day because yesterday when she was reading the book Just Like a Baby that we love, she really struggled and it upset her.

She's still mostly cheerful, though. So I don't know.

Ancient Israelites

We've been proceeding not-very-systematically through Ancient History this year. We're reading a book on the ancient Israelites and we're at the section on writing.

The book, The Ancient Israelites and their Neighbors, has a chart of the ancient Hebrew alphabet, the modern Hebrew alphabet, and the sounds made by each letter, although some are untranslatable ("sound deep in the throat"). Madison, my little code lover, thought the whole section was cool, and was intrigued at the idea of there not being any vowels in the written language. What about words like pat, pet, pit, put, and put?

They are right now working with clay and little knives to carve their own names in ancient and modern Hebrew.

Ella's first chapter book

Last week after spending her own $4 on a pair of cute doggy socks, Ella got it in her head that she wanted doggy pajamas. "Is there anything I could do that would get me doggy pajamas as a prize?" she asked.

I said she could read, on her own, a chapter book. She chose the first book in a popular series she likes and I hate: The Rainbow Fairies: The Ruby fairy.

I told her that the way Madison had gotten going on the Boxcar Children series was that she was so determined to read them on her own that she picked up the first one and read it through, skipping any words she didn't know. And Ella could do the same thing? Yes. But you have to actually read the book, not skip all of the words and just look at the pictures. OK.

Sunday, the child got going. She read, she whined, she wept, but she wanted those doggy PJ's so badly that she kept going. (I wasn't making her do anything, of course, this was all up to her.)

By Sunday evening, she'd read 17 of 65 pages. And then yesterday, she finished it. By noon. She was so happy.

She was even happier when we went to Target and found a terrific pair of pajamas with a dog on it. Here she is with the book, wearing the cute PJs:



I still hate those books, though. No literary value whatsoever.

On a higher-quality literary note, though, we finished reading The Trumpet of the Swan out loud yesterday. God, I love that book. It is one of my favorite books of all time. There is so much from that that chokes me up. I have to swallow hard before I can read certain things, such as where Louis says to the Zoo director, "Safety is all well and good: I prefer freedom."

Madison had to read the last page for me because I just couldn't do it without my throat closing:

As Louis relaxed and prepared for sleep, all his thoughts were of how lucky he was to inhabit such a beautiful earth, how lucky he had been to solve his problems with music, and how pleasant it was to look forward to another night of sleep and another day tomorrow, and the fresh morning, and the light that returns with the day.

Ron Paul controversy

I don't know enough about Ron Paul or the current controversy over the racist comments in one of his newsletters from some years ago to provide my own thoughts. But Peter Saint-Andre has a really nice essay about it over at his blog "one small voice":

https://stpeter.im/?p=2132

Please pinch your pencil

I say it all day long to Madison: "Please pinch your pencil." I say it calmly, pleasantly, reasonably, even the 40th time.

One of the things that had gotten in the way of Madison's handwriting for so long was that she was holding it wrong, in a more fist-like grip. She hated to write.

I realized it, and switched her grip, and her handwriting became much better, easier, and more legible.

But she still usually grabs the pencil and starts writing the wrong way. I have to remind her constantly. I mean, SHE sees that her handwriting is bad when she does it the wrong way, why doesn't she adjust on her own?

And while we're at it, why don't they get GET that you're always supposed to say Please and Thank-you automatically? When does THAT happen? :-)

Multiplication - My goodness, my kids are so different

I'm teaching Ella the multiplication tables, and I can't believe what a difference it is from teaching Madison hers. I thought it was worth outlining.

It's fascinating to observe the difference in their approach to memorization, for instance. Madison memorizes something almost instantly -- IF it makes conceptual sense and is either words expressing whole thoughts, or set to music. She memorizes poetry almost effortlessly, and can practically quote passages from books she's read a few times. Memorizing her lines for drama took almost no effort.

But putting the answers to the equations for the multiplication tables, boy was that a struggle for her. She was her own worst enemy about it. I had to try method after method before we finally finished those tables.

In contrast, Ella seems to be decent but not startling at her ability to memorize poems and songs, but has picked up the memorization of the multiplication tables so fast she almost takes my breath away.

I didn't start either of them out memorizing until they both had a conceptual grasp of what multiplication is. They learned this approximately the same way, "4 rows of 3 block" or "7 groups of 5 M&Ms." Ella, now, thinks of it as "Four 3's" or "Seven 5's" and often says the equations that way.

Then, once they had the method, I set them about memorizing the tables, which Ella has just started. And they both use approximately the same method for that, too. I ask Ella what is 7 x 3. Well, she has memorized 7 x 2, so she counts up 7 from 14. Madison did about the same thing, I recall.

However, Ella has now realized that memorizing the numbers in the skip counting sequence makes it much, much easier. Madison was never one for skip counting, she prefered the more conceptual method, and regarded the skip counts (which we didn't focus on so much) as just one more memorization issue. But Ella, well, I had her derive the answers for the 4-times table yesterday by using the Math-U-See blocks and writing down the equations and answers on little note cards. And then, she simply proceeded (at a suggestion of mine) to memorize, in not even 10 minutes, the skip counting sequence of 4, 8, 12... up to 40. All day yesterday, at completely her own initiative, every so often she'd come out with "4, 8, 12, 16..." So now she has a method that is even EASIER for her, and if I ask her 4 x 6 she'll either know it because she knows 4 x 5 and that the next one, which is 24, must be 4 x 6, or she'll just use her fingers and count up the sequence of skip counting. This morning (she's been sleeping with us the last few days, the Nancy Drews have "freaked her out,") she snuggled over to me and the first thing she said was a triumphant whisper in my ear, "4, 8, 12, 16..."

If it is this easy, I'll thank my lucky stars.

Later on in the process, by the way, the fact of not knowing the answer would get in Madison's way terribly, because she takes a trip down the road of what the implications are of the fact that she doesn't know it, and ruminates about THAT, instead of putting her energy to solving it. So, I'd ask her:

What's 4 x 6?

She'd realize that she had forgotten the answer. And to my dramatic little girl, this became akin to disaster. I could almost hear the internal dialogue:

"What's 4 x 6? Okay, let's give this the fraction of a second of thought that this usually requires. Oh no! I don't know it! I can't believe I don't know this! I knew it the other day. Come on, Madison. You're blowing it, here! You SHOULD know this, Madison. You're supposed to be good at math, this is a big deal that you don't know 4 x 6. How are you going to do real math if you don't know 4 x 6? Maybe you're not as smart as you thought."

Whereas, I have this feeling that down the road if Ella doesn't know 4 x 6, she'll repeat to herself inside, "4...8...12...16...20...24!"

The Oddest Effect of Nancy Drew

We're in a phase of listening obsessively to Nancy Drew on CD (read by Laura Linney).

It is having the most unexpected effect on me: I feel the urge to dress better. More...precisely. Crisply, cleanly. As if there is a precise way to dress for each occasion. There is something so attractive about the way the books describe the trim '50s-era sports dresses, and polo shirts with jeans. It makes me want to go get some skirts with matching sweaters.

Really am not kidding. I want to go shopping.

Lovely weather

The last two days have seen record-high temperatures here in Rochester, in the mid-60s. I have never seen it this warm in January. Everyone was rejoicing, everyone was outside, everyone was talking about it. There was a sense that we were all on furlough for a little while.

The fact is, the winter here really is something that must be endured. I've felt better about having to do so since returning from Virginia, which never felt like home to me, despite the mild winter we enjoyed there from 2005-2006. I really did enjoy that.

The wind is blowing hard from the northwest this morning, which means we're returning to "seasonal" temperatures. On the other hand, it's still not going to be much worse than the 30s for the next several days. "Endurance" doesn't really enter into the psyche here until we're only topping out at 20, or if it's snowing hard.

And, I shouldn't talk. I get to educate my kids at home. I get to work at home. Sure, we go out to a lot of classes, but the parking lots are always close to the door. And while the driving can be bad, it's never too far. I don't have to struggle in the bitter wind tunnels of a snowy campus on a long walk from parking lot U. David never complains, though, never.

Odd people can be good with kids

Madison started going to a science club today for 8-to-11-year-olds, which is run for free by some homeschooling parents near here. They're strange people, though not fundies or anything. When they're talking to you, whether on the phone or in person, they talk and talk and talk and talk, with no sense of YOU being there as another human being with thoughts or ideas, until you want to run. They're like verbal quicksand.

BUT...

They seem to be really good with the kids. When Madison asked a science question when we first met them, they were great at drawing the answer out of her, with "What do you think?" and "What evidence is there for your hypothesis?" kinds of questions.

They take it seriously; they're going to send around a little email each week describing what they did and what scientific principles were involved so that we can follow up.

And, apparently, she had a good time today. I'm guessing that somehow they have a different section of their brains switched on so they don't just bury the kids in a pile of words.

And did I mention it's free?

I wouldn't have predicted, at first blush, that this could work well with those particular folks. But there it is. Just goes to show that you really can't necessarily judge the value of something at first glance.

School goes so much more smoothly when you're organized

Last night, I took the time to make the girls each a personal schedule for today, with subjects and activities to be accomplished where and when.

I must keep in mind how much they like this, how easy and smooth it makes life.

It's not even 10, they're done with what they needed to accomplish before 10, and now we're just about to be off to science club.

Madison is happy that this afternoon at the library we're having a little "mom and me" math lesson, not her doing it, just me showing her some stuff. We'll do that each Monday between Gym & Swim and karate.

They love them lists. They love them check marks. They love seeing concrete renderings of their accomplishments. And now that Ella can read her own list, she's happy and much more self-sufficient.


Yesterday, instead of spending the afternoon organizing as I'd intended, I took Madison to the Nature Center for a bird hike. It was wise. She needed to spend some time alone with me to chill out doing something she loved.

There were about 30 people on the hike (!) with our beloved nature center director, Linda Bender. Madison (who, Linda pointed out, is a regular camper) asked great questions and often answered Linda's general queries so accurately and enthusiastically that another family inquired about their summer camps for their own kids.

Madison's new schedule

Madison has been a cranking crankeroo recently. I'm newly sensitive to it and yesterday was miserable. An automatic negative or aggrieved reaction to situations. (E.g., "Hey! Where's the salt!?" (as if someone has been insulting her by witholding the salt from her immediate surroundings) rather than "Does someone know where the salt is?") It's really getting on my nerves. I hope that today is an easier day for her so that when we get back to school tomorrow, it doesn't affect that. I'm doing a big day of planning, today, so that the kids have their beloved lists of what will get accomplished. That should help.

On the other hand, tomorrow is Monday and Madison doesn't have much formal school because of a new science club for 8-to-11-year-olds (free, from a homeschool dad) that is starting up tomorrow. She'll do karate and piano practicing in the morning, but then will be at science club (fortunately only 1/2 mile away) from 10-12. Then Gym-and-Swim from 1-3, karate from 4:30-5:15. We'll probably be going to the library between Gym-and-Swim and karate, and so she'll do some of her work there with me, one-on-one, probably will be mostly math. And we'll try to work from 8:30-9:30 as well, mostly WRTR and handwriting.

Starting at the end of the month, Tuesdays will look somewhat similar for her, as she'll have a homeschool musical theater group from 10:30-2pm (I think she'll love it) and Spanish from 4-5pm.

I hope this isn't unwise. But I'm pretty sure I can compress what she needs to learn in other subjects into Wednesday-Friday. We'll see.

A new food pyramid

Want to feel guilty? Here is a new alternative to the traditional Food Pyramid for kids.

http://www.kidshealth.org/kid/stay_healthy/food/go_slow_whoa.html

Instead of having interesting classifications of food into dairy, grains, meat, etc, they've simplified it for kids, and for we morons who feed them, into just three categories: "Go, Slow, and WHOA!"

It reminds me of the book What to Expect when You're Expecting, wherein they advise that SOMETIMES pregnant women should indulge themselves with something sweet. They suggest a fruit-juice-sweetened whole-grain muffin.

Let me tell you, as a product of approximately 14 years of GO food enforced by the Food Nazi that was my father, I'm in no better health than you are. Except I'm that much more likely to see sugar as a reward for good behavior.

The whole thing makes me want to go and make a big batch of crusciki.

Pediatrician

We visited the pediatrician yesterday for the girls' annual checkup. They hadn't been sick at all in the past year, and last year's checkup was with the PA, so they hadn't seen him in some time.

Our pediatrician isn't scintillatingly bright (he's fine for healthy children, if you know what I mean, but he wasn't able to diagnose Dario's hearing problem for years, it took a specialist to do that), but it turns out he's EXTREMELY homeschool friendly. He was SO impressed with the girls.

"What's your favorite topic in school?" he asked Ella.

"Logic."

His eyebrows flew up with surprise and pleasure. He was interested in how much time academics takes in the morning. He asked about all of the extra classes the girls are able to do. He commented that they get to do all of this stuff because they have the time and the energy from not going to school.

"I'm jealous," he said to the girls. "I wish I could go to your school."

I've heard about people struggling over homeschooling issues with their pediatricians, not that I would tolerate one whiff of that of course, but it certainly is pleasing to have someone so on one's side.

Art School

For this shortened week, we're doing Art School.

That is, yesterday, today, and tomorrow is filled with painting.

I had discovered some Bob Ross episodes being shown on some obscure PBS-like station on our cable network, channel 433. They're Tuesdays and Thursdays and I'm taping them. We have 4 so far. We love Bob Ross. His last name, too. (No relation, though.)

Yesterday the girls and I watched two of them, and today we're going to watch one more and try to paint one of them. We use acryllics, whereas he uses oils, so it will be a little different of a technique and color mixing. We'll see what the girls come up with.

Went to Michael's yesterday and stocked up on some paint, a really nice 1" brush for me, and a couple of painting knifes of which Bob makes such excellent use. We're ready.

Update at 6:30pm: One extremely interesting thing I discovered today is how well they are able to TALK about art, but how far they are from DOING it. I believe it's a hand-eye coordination developmental issue. We watch the shows together. They can comment very intelligently on how Bob does the artwork, how he makes it light on the right slope of all of the mountains in that painting so you can tell that the light is coming from the right, how he puts lots of different colors into one place so you see all of the interesting ways a tree can look. But they are ABSOLUTELY incapable of imitating him once they have the brush in hand.

It's as though what they know cerebrally completely switches off and is irrelevant to the enterprise at hand, which says something to me (though I'm not sure what) about how the brain develops. I'm sure that a conceptual understanding of the technique is important, but this made me see how much more there is to it.

We see how, step by step, Bob builds color into a work. His contention is that anyone can paint if you go step by step, and in fact I am living proof of that. We talk about painting all the time, the girls and I. THEY talk about how when you see a a tree it's not really just green. We talk about the various colors in the sky, the placement of color on the clouds as the sun is shining from different angles. We talk about layer method of painting, how the background goes on first, then it builds forward. But the most that they've been able to manage is that the sky is no longer just a 1-inch strip of bright blue, that it goes behind the mountains. They make uniform brown and green blobs instead of building dabs of color lightly on in layers, although Madison is better at organizing her blobs into a landscape than Ella. It's absolutely fascinating to see the difference between the two of them, and I'm sure that it has something to do with a simple 20-month age difference.

We'll keep at this. I will take photos of what they do and so I'll be able to watch their development on this dimension.

Saluting people of courage from 2007

We are spending the New Year's holiday in Pennsylvania with our dear friends Tatiana and Tony, and their son Dario.

Tonight, we are saluting people who exhibited great courage in 2007, and also those we know who have made good positive changes in their lives, and can serve as inspiring examples for us and our children.

First, Benazir Bhutto, of course.

And Oscar Elias Biscet, who in November was honored in absentia by President Bush with the Presidential Medal of Freedom for his work to promote freedom in Cuba.

And the people of Venezuela who rejected Chavez's "reforms."

And most of the American soldiers stationed in the Middle East.

And Garry Kasparov.

And the Ladies in White in Cuba.

A big toast will go to Alejandro Ripoll Paez, Tatiana's brother, who this year escaped Cuba on his 12th try, on a speedboat to Mexico, and is now in Miami, working to bring his wife and children.

We are also celebrating those we know and love who took the initiative this year to make their lives better, to be true to themselves, which sometimes involves a good deal of courage:

My friend Harold, who left the priesthood this year after realizing that he didn't believe Catholicism is true.

My friend Patrick, who decided to have six months of chemotherapy to reduce the chance that his colon cancer will return.

My friend Donald, who left a job that wasn't right for him.

And, Tatiana, who, after teaching college Spanish for five years as an adjunct, talked herself into the Master's program in language and culture at Villanova, where she currently teaches Spanish.

All of these people inspire me.

Anyone have any other additions to this list?

A terrible day

I found out about Benazir Bhutto's assassination when I was on the treadmill this morning at the YMCA.

I am sad, and afraid.

If you think about the world, how many people of true courage can you really name? For me, Benazir Bhutto has headed the list. Find me someone braver than her.

One of my fears is that people here in the West won't make the connection -- you know who they are, the ones who claim that we should somehow try to make nicey-nice with all of the hostile wackos and dictatorships in the world -- won't recognize that the people who did this are the crazies whom we have to fight. They'd be happy to do it HERE, damn it. To YOUR kids. To YOUR friends.

I am so afraid that without Bhutto's restraining sobriety, that part of the world will begin (or accelerate, depending on your perspective) a terrible downward spiral. What chance do all of the oppressed women in the Islamic nations have now? (I'm sure many of them are getting the message: Take off the chador, babe, and you'll just SEE what happens to you.)

I want to go back to yesterday.

Biggest hits

The biggest hits this morning were

1) The Barbie 2-in-1 Party Plane and Cruise Ship


As I suspected, this was Numero Uno by far. I'm so glad I got it for Ella. Not only did she LET me play with it, she ASKED me to play with it. I got to be Hairstylist Barbie and teenaged daughter Barbie. Ella was both Mom Barbie and Dad Boybie. (We had gotten a male Barbie a few years ago, not Ken, but Blaine, the next guy, and Madison promptly named him Boybie. So Boybie he has remained.)

Madison was the cruise attendant Barbie and Captain. The Captain was a Prince Barbie, now demoted to both Pilot and Captain, depending on whether we're playing Cruise or Plane Flight.

Even better, it all folds up into a neat package for storage.

2) The Bike

Madison wanted to ride it in the house.

3) The Sled.

They're now out sledding in Ellison Park.

I'm going to take a walk by myself in Corbett's Glen across the street. Then I'm going to sew a comforter cover for our bed, because what other day of the year do I have the luxury of sitting around the house and watching America's Test Kitchen (of which I've taped about six episodes) and sew. I'm really tired of supplementing our comforter with an old twin Winnie the Pooh blanket, it needs a nice cover.

Madison came up to me this morning as I was eating chocolate-covered pretzels and reading Washington's Crossing (appropriate day to read about that) by David Hackett Fischer. She slipped her arms around my neck and whispered, "Thanks for the bike, Mom. I knew when we saw it in Target that you'd find a way to get it."

I said, "Hey, Santa brought that, you're not supposed to thank ME for any Christmas gifts, that's the point, they're from Santa."

"I know," she said, "but I wanted to thank you anyway, it's really great and you should know that I say thank you."

Because that's just the kind of kid she is.


Later: We always listen to WXXI, the local classical music station, on Christmas. And they just played a really strange piece which was a combination of "The Little Drummer Boy" and Ravel's "Bolero." I can't decide whether it works.

Division by Zero

Madison, and, lately, as a result of Madison's interest, Ella, has taken to looking for ways to combine the numbers on the digital clocks on the kitchen stove and on the VCR. For example, at 11:31, she'll suddenly say: "One plus one plus one equals three!" and at 11:38, she'll say: "One plus one, cubed, equals 8! The two of them are now always alert to ways to successfully combine the numbers on the screen. I taught neither of them to do this, although I will admit that I always did it as a kid, too. (It's how I learned that if the digits in two different numbers add up to the same thing, the difference between them will always be divisible by 9. E.g., 95-77=18.)

At 2:00 this afternoon, Madison asked what it would mean to divide a number by zero. "What would be 2 divided by 0?" I explained that it was meaningless, that you can think of what it would mean to divide a number into 2 pieces or 4 pieces or 1 piece but not into 0 pieces."

"That's scary," she said.

"What's scary?" I asked.

"That it could be meaningless. I wish I hadn't asked the question. I wish I could dial back my life to before I asked the question and not ask it."

She felt a little better when, a few minutes later, David said that some people interpreted the answer to division by 0 as infinity. He took her through the reasoning: What if you divided something by 1/2? 1/4? 1/100? She saw how it got bigger and bigger the smaller fraction you divided something by, and how if you got small enough of a fraction you get such a big number that it approaches infinity.

Ella can't help but read

I was talking with Laura earlier this fall about possibly using The Writing Road to Reading because I was feeling a little discouraged about Ella's progress or lack thereof. Everyday reading was such an effort for Ella that she didn't really try when she didn't have to for school. But Laura told me that part of the effect of WRTR is that soon Ella wouldn't be able to help reading.

I was skeptical.

But, I can see now that the corner has been turned. Ella can't help reading. She got a new computer game, Barbie as the Island Princess, for Lightbulb Day, and in wandering around through it, she *just reads*. Not the long explanations, mind you, I guess they seem daunting, but everyday words and phrases and sentences that pop up now and again. They just seem to go into her head effortlessly. It's been a long time since Ella got a new game and so the difference in that is startling.

Of course, as with everything, it's impossible to tell whether this was just primarily "her time" or if this is the cause. But I'm really pleased. Thanks, Laura.

And Madison still can't help spelling, even more so in the last week. It's as though she can suddenly see the words broken apart in her head, and can relate them verbally. What was once just a picture on the page that she read effortlessly is something that now has logical (or illogical) parts. And I'm pretty sure that this is due to WRTR, as I've never heard of a magic "click" moment for spelling that happens naturally, and it didn't seem like Madison was primed for one of these moments, anyway. We deliberately took a right turn in spelling with WRTR, and it brought her brain some new skills that she wasn't heading toward on her own.

Just a picture-taking time of year, I guess

We got our Christmas tree today (the latest we've ever gone before Christmas without one).



Later in the afternoon, we hung our ornaments. Each year, we get three ornaments from somewhere we travel: One for us, one for Madison, and one for Ella. David and I started out with some cable cars from San Francisco in 1995. By the time each of them is 18, they'll have their own "starter set" to move to their own house. Madison said that we already have a lot. I pointed out that over the next 10 years before she's 18 we'll have 30 more.

"Or 40," she pointed out. "If you guys split up."

After a long, surprised pause, we came to understand that she meant if David and I get separate sets of ornaments.

Then there was more clowning around.



And this was my favorite:

Karate kids move up a belt

They had a very nice belt ceremony at Martial Arts America, where Madison and Ella go for karate twice per week. I really like how they do things there. The instructors take it seriously, but not deadly seriously. The girls really have improved in the last year.

My camera was not cooperating very well, but I got some okay shots.



Here is Madison doing the kata with her group:



I was able to crop the others out of Ella's shot:

Happy Lightbulb Day!

Tonight's the Big Night.



Hope your Lightbulb Day is bright!

Shopping is the best therapy

I’m sure I’m not alone as a parent in thinking that my kids are so wonderful that I’d like to get them anything they want, everything they want, in fact. And yet…what about the stuff that I wish they didn’t want?

Ella has been hankering for one of those big plastic Barbie sets, you know, the ones with all of the little plastic accessories that really HURT when they get crunched by a bare foot…the ones that look like a bunch of cheap pink plastic junk rather than some of those great toys that last forever that I wrote about in the article on KOA.

Well, I’ve been remembering, lately, a Christmastime when I was about six, and how my parents refused to get anything Barbie-ish other than the actual doll, telling me it was a lot of expensive and trendy junk that would never last. Remember the Barbie Country Camper? I remember it vividly. I wanted that Camper like nobody’s business. And I realized, as I was shopping this week, that I shouldn’t remember something like that vividly. Or, at least, my daughter shouldn't. What I'm recalling, of course, is not that Santa never brought the Barbie Country Camper, but the dismissiveness with which my father treated me desire for it.

I had these visions of Ella, 32 years down the road, complaining to some therapist about how her mom would stomp on her aesthetic sensibilities by refusing to get the pink plastic stuff she craved. So, right there in Toys Backwards-R Us tonight, I told my own good taste to hold its tongue (so to speak). I loaded into my cart the 2007 equivalent of the Barbie Country Camper: the Barbie Party Plane & Ship 2-in-1 Playset. With music! And lights! It all seemed so right.

And I bet, come Tuesday, that Ella will even let me play, too.

Birds and bees

Explained sex and birth control to the girls over lunch today, in response to Ella's question about whether you can prevent a pregnancy from occurring. Kicked in menstruation, too, as part of the explanation of how different birth control medicines work. Why would anyone want to have sex if they didn't want to make a baby? they asked. It feels good, I said.

"But not for kids," said Madison.

"Right."

"For kids it would hurt."

"Yes. You have to grow a lot for things to be the right shape and size."

Their reaction was engaged interest in the facts. Certainly nothing like Madison's initial response when she asked how the sperm got to the egg (when she was five, I think), which was "EEEEEEEW." This discussion was infinitely more satisfying than that one, at least for the parent.

Nate the Great

It's a Nate the Great morning here in the Ross house. Ella has already done her Nate the Great reading (she does about 5-6 pages; Nate the Great is a perfect struggling level for her--difficult, but she can get it), and we're having pancakes to celebrate.

Not fish pancakes, though.


Madison is profoundly hooked on Trixie Belden. This is the third day. She is on Book 3. Good thing the library had some.


Mostly finished the shopping last night, YES! Need to get a "big" present for Ella, though. Madison's big present was a bike.

Spelling

I really think the Writing Road to Reading program is having a big effect on Madison's spelling. I'm a little bit off-program on WRTR, in that nowadays we basically review the rules, and then plunge right in annotating the words they want to spell.

For example, this morning, Ella wrote out her Christmas List. Then, I wrote it out big and properly, and together, we went syllable by syllable and annotated it. They like this, particularly Madison.

The effect that it's been having lately on Madison is that she is, a bit annoyingly, often SPELLING when you ask her a question. But she's spelling properly, and fast.

"It's time to get your karate uniform on, Madison."

"I - space - K-N-O-W - space - T-H-A-T - period."

I don't fuss about how annoying that is, except when she does it to Ella's face, JUST to be annoying, because she knows Ella can't process the verbal spelling as fast as Madison has been doing it.

So this is all good news.

Best thing to do during a blizzard

It's snowing hard outside. This is our backyard.



We decided to make gingerbread houses.



Of course, children fight when they have to work on the same gingerbread house. (This is wisdom from last year.) So I decided to get out the Halloween gingerbread house that we forgot to make at Halloween. Ella is making that one:



She doesn't know about her mustache yet.

Blizzard

Ella just reported to me that the snow is coming from the east, which is very unusual here in Rochester; usually weather comes from the northwest or west. The great weathervane that the girls created went down in the sleet last week, but it would be buried by now anyway. We'll make another soon, because Ella in particular found it so interesting to see which direction the wind was blowing from.

Ella is uncommonly good at orienting herself in space...from the house, she always knows which direction is north, south, east, and west, and is usually able to figure it out when we're out and about, as well. This leads me to think that something about this ability is inborn--I have a really good sense of direction, too, and it just feels like there's some sense I have that I tap into, rather than having developed it intellectually some way. Watching Ella's progress, it seems like she learned this effortlessly and does it naturally; I can tell the difference between things she has worked hard to acquire and things that she can "just do"--and directions are one of those things. I do math spacially, too, and it seems that Ella is the same way.

Since she has this predilection, we've been looking at weather maps online lately, so she can relate her immediate orientation to the map. That's a bit harder for her, but still enjoyable.

Both a good and bad thing, depending on your perspective

I discovered this week that my new KitchenAid Mixer, properly employed, makes Grandma Zydzik's chrusciki recipe with about a thousand percent less effort. And it took a 3-hour job and paired it down to an hour. Worked great for giving to the choir teachers and neighbors. Not so good for my waistline; most of the effort for chrusciki (and the secret to success for this pastry) typically goes into kneading and kneading and KNEADING the dough, which, before I had the mixer, at least shaved off some of the calories. The incredients are: egg yolks, sour cream, flour, sugar, a pinch of salt, and vanilla...shaped into bow ties and deep fried in Crisco, then drenched in powdered sugar.

I would have taken a photo of the chrusciki, but they were gone too fast.

Old family joke (or one that I may have made up 20 or more years ago):

Question: What's the shelf life of chrusciki?
Answer: No one knows, it never lasts long enough to be put back on the shelf.

This is the extent of the Polish heritage that has filtered through (the recipe, not the joke). It's the best part, probably.


Hunkering down for the blizzard today...

Naturalism vs Romanticism

I'm pleased to say that I've been working hard on the book, the first novel of what I hope will be a terrific series for 8-to-12-year-olds. It stars a group of homeschooling kids who live near Powder Mills Park in Pittsford, NY, and who come upon a mysterious treasure chest with even more mysterious contents floating in Irondequoit Creek.

Madison and I have been researching this book for over a year, mostly because it is (or wants to be, let's hope that it works) a romp through classic children's mystery literature, and we've had to read a LOT of it. She reads, she reports, I check out, I write, she reads, and we edit edit edit.

Anyway, I'm in Chapter 9 of what I think will be about 16 chapters. Been humming along, of late, despite being overworked on various dimensions. (My goal is to get it published before May 5, 2009, my 40th birthday.)

Madison and I were talking about the progress today, and she pointed out that this book, like most of the others that she likes, like the Boxcar Children and Nancy Drew, have "perfect" children in them, and that this is perhaps unrealistic.

"No one ever gets into snits," she complained. "And maybe the readers like that better, but I think that's unrealistic. Maybe we should have Karen Rose and Alexander have a fight or something, or have one of them be snotty to their parents."

I talked with her about how novels and movies portray only things that are essential to the plot, rather than peripheral things. "You know people have to go to the bathroom now and again," I explained. "But we never see that, because it's not part of what drives the story along."

"Well, maybe not," she agreed. "But I think maybe we should try to move away from presenting perfect kids, and go for more realistic kids. Maybe kids should be able to relate to our characters rather than want to be like them."

Émile Zola, reincarnated, perhaps?

I took the opportunity to describe how this was actually a big debate in the 19th century, Naturalism vs. Romanticism, and how we've had several representatives of both in our Birthday of the Day (William Blake was recent) in literature, art, and music. She was interested that this all has a name. But I think she was more interested in winning a point, and in having me alter the book to be more realistic. I told her that she should propose whatever she thinks would be good for the book, just let me know.

In other news...

I brought the girls to a new dentist today, a pediatric dentist. Madison really hadn't hit it off with my dentist (at her first visit, when she was 4, she wouldn't open her mouth, and every time thereafter it was a struggle for her to allow stuff to be done inside her mouth...partly a gag reflex and partly a control issue). After the last time when Dr. Parnes seemed a little frustrated with her, I thought maybe a change would do her good.

I asked around and got a glowing recommendation from one of the senseis at karate for this group, which is mostly women. We went this morning, and Madison really hit it off with them. They understood her issues, and worked with them. She pronounced them a vast improvement over "the last guy." Ella, on the other hand, always loves a trip to the dentist, has no problem opening her mouth and chatting up a store. Today, though, she didn't like the taste of the toothpaste (she chose "chocolate mint" flavor from among a vast array) or the feel of the toothbrush so well, and it colored her whole experience. It's good that Madison really likes these folks, because she needs to get her back teeth sealed in a couple of weeks, and she needs to make an orthodontist appointment pronto because her mouth is so crowded. These people don't submit your paperwork to your insurance company for you, but I'm assured they're worth it. Seems to be true.

First boy-talk, ever

Aunt Tamra's Christmas package -- having three boys, she loves to shop for girls' clothes -- arrived this morning. Much squealing ensued. ("Aunt Tamra has really overdone herself this year!" said Ella. I had visions of Tam staying too long in a tanning booth, but I didn't have the heart to correct Ella on the wording.)

"Gee, Ella," said Madison, as Ella put on a denim skirt and denim jacket, both embroidered with colorful flowers. "That's beautiful. That will really attract the boys."

"It will?" said Ella, with a skeptical look on her face. "Do I want it to?"

"Sure, you do," said Madison, cheerfully. "Come on, let's go upstairs and I'll get you looking so good that all of the boys will want to have a date with you right away."

They came down. Ella had her hair brushed (!) and a navy hair band holding it back.

"You look nice," I said.

"Yes," said Madison. "And I did up her eyes and lips really nice, too."

"Oh, really?" I said. "I can't see anything different there."

Without pausing a lick, she replied, "Oh only the boys will be able to notice."

Ah, if she only knew.

I guess I'd better tell David that he'll need to start getting the baseball bat ready.

Update: We're finishing up school for the day, and Madison is pretending to be a boy named Max who is at "real" school, chatting up "Elizabeth" (Ella) in the funniest "deep" voice. I'm gathering that she's doing this so that Ella starts getting experience talking with "guys."

Honestly, I can barely bear to listen, both because it reminds me of exactly how I used to play with my little sister, and how I used to wince at the memories not too many years after we used to engage in the same kind of play-acting. Besides, I'm inclined to think that they're too young to be thinking about this. Maybe they've been picking up this kind of talk at Brownies, or something.

You're the Top

At one point, David and I started using the song "You're the Top" as a good gradual cultural literacy discussion.

Here is a link to the lyrics. We don't sing 'em all, quite. David says that there are several versions.

But we were discussing tonight:

You're the National Gall'ry
You're Garbo's salary
You're cellophane.

David asked if either of them knew what "Garbo's salary" meant. Ella said,

"I think it's kind of a salad-thing that you eat..."

What? Where on earth did she get such an idea? We were perplexed. We couldn't help giggling up a storm.

Snuggling into bed a few minutes later, still a little perturbed at our giggle-fest, she explained it to me.

"Mom, I was thinking of that stuff that you eat. We made some at the cooking class."

Oh oh ooooooh! They made Waldorf Salad at the cooking school. There's a line a little further down in the song:

You're the top!
You're a Waldorf salad.
You're the top!
You're a Berlin ballad.

And what's in a Waldorf salad? Of course, CELERY!

(Although not exactly Garbo's celery.)

Absurd Math

Melissa Wiley's blog gave me this link to

Absurd Math

It's a free online math game in which you travel to an absurd world somewhere in the universe to help save civilization as they know it. It's designed to nurture pre-Algebra skills.

Madison and I played it yesterday morning. She loved it, although she needed my help for some of the math. She got the logic and the "feel" of playing the game within a few episodes.

I really think Raymond would like it, Laura, you should check it out.

Christ, The Messiah runs long

What a weekend it was. Madison had two rehearsals on Saturday for the two concerts on Sunday.

The first concert, at 2pm, was called "OrKIDstra" with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra, at the Eastman Theatre. This is a series that the RPO does four or five times per year, special concerts for children. They always sell out. This one was a holiday show featuring "The Polar Express," a musical rendition of Chris Van Allsburg's beautiful book.

You'd think such a thing would be cheesy. In this day and age, what isn't? But it wasn't, it was beautiful. The Bach Children's Chorus combined with the Amadeus Chorale and a great baritone from the Eastman School. The baritone sang the part of the narrator, which was almost exactly just a simple word-for-word rendering of Van Allsburg's book. The choir sang a kind of echo part that was fairly musically complex. All in all, just lovely.

Then afterward we ZOOOOMED across town to a 4 o'clock concert at the Hochstein School of Music & Dance where the choir was doing The Messiah with the Rochester Oratorio Society and the Rochester Chamber Orchestra.

It was long. Really, really, long. I'd forgotten just how long The Messiah is. Two and a half hours. David took Ella home at intermission, it was just too much. And for the last 3/4 of the program, the choir was up there on stage with the the Oratorio Society and the Orchestra.

For 77 kids to have such a rigorous day of concerts, that's asking a lot. I hadn't realized that they'd have to stay up there motionless on the stage for 2 hours. I am pretty sure Madison had not realized it. And some of the younger kids did NOT rise to the occasion. They forgot (or didn't care?) they were up there, and some started whispering. A couple even played some hand game called "chopsticks." It was distracting.

But not MY kid.

No, Madison pretty much sat rigidly at attention, with her face turned toward the conductor. Once, she carefully put a restraining hand on the girl next to her--unfortunately, the girls misbehaving were only a few kids to her left, but otherwise was perfect. Perfect. My little 8-year-old. I was so proud. I know how hard it is not to be distracted by such things. I found myself feeling a bit relieved that there were so few boys in the choir.

At intermission, the choir manager, June Santini (the Great Santini) read the choir the riot act. And they were a lot better behaved in the second half. But the thing is, it's such a LONG piece, and the time between their numbers ran to 45 minutes or more. They'd had a long, hard day, and many of them almost started falling asleep. Lots of yawns. Some slumps. Some chins on hands. Some heads on back of seats.

I watched Madison's face, and it reminded me of this great video we have of her, at about age 1, in her high chair. It's a 3-minute segment of her falling asleep in the high chair, trying not to, jerking her eyes open, and finally succumbing. On the other hand, this 8-year-old has a force of will that the 1-year-old did not. I was so impressed with her keeping herself focused and awake.

The soloists that they had for the four parts were great. The bass was particularly impressive, a guy named Derrick Smith who is a faculty member at Eastman and has sung opera all over the world. I would give a lot to see him do "Porgy," which is apparently one of his roles. The alto soloist, I can't remember her name, is blind, and the kids got to meet her and her guide dog after the performance. Very interesting for them to see her with a Braille score up on stage.

I had a $5 gift card from Target which could only be used yesterday (I know, weird) so after the performance Madison and I went out (alone...which, I can't remember having been able to do with her in the last six years so that was nice) for Indian food and then to Target so she could spend the gift card on whatever she wanted. She spent over 45 minutes carefully going through the options, and finally selected a black-and-white stuffed puppy which she named Pepper.

I told her that she'd earned the three of us a day in which she gets to do anything she wants. So, today is a mental health day. Well, at least, a mental health morning. No school. She and Ella are playing Club Penguin. I get to finish decorating for Christmas, organize the attic, and organize the basement. Then we'll go to their gym-and-swim class, the library, and karate. And then more of doing Whatever Madison Wants.

I kind of wish they weren't so delighted with the No School option. Ah, well, who said my kids were different from any other.

Frost

After Rational Jenn posted an enthusiastic link to my Lightbulb Day post, I got into a little back-and-forth with one of her commenters about whether Robert Frost's poem "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" is about death. I don't think so.

I sought John Enright's opinion, and he has a nice post about it on his blog at
http://john-j-enright.livejournal.com/433810.html

Update: And here, too.

What a crazy idea

Sometimes I think to myself that I'm insane to think that I can run a 1/2 time technology consulting business, 1/2 time web site publishing business, and home school my kids.

Today is one of those days.

12pm and the only education they've had is what David gave them this morning on the Birthday of the Day (Ira Gershwin).

Lightbulb Day's A-Comin'

I thought for this year I'd write up how we celebrate Lightbulb Day and post it on KidsOutAndAbout.com:

http://rochester.kidsoutandabout.com/main-articles/lightbulbday.html

Who knows, maybe it'll catch on.

Concert

The girls had their first (and only, of the season) choir concert together tonight, with both the Bach Children's Chorus and the Mozart Children's Chorus performing. The Greece Choral Society, an adult choir, also sang, and it was a beautiful concert. Thoroughly enjoyable and would have been touching even were my children not in it. The girls were really gratified that our friends Tom and Susan also came; that made it particularly special to them.



The experience of having one's children in the performance is unnervingly unlike not having one's children in the performance. I'm sure David, with his nerves of steel, doesn't experience it this way at all, but for me, it's almost like I'm up there with them. Ella, in the younger chorus, had a distractingly active girl standing next to her during the performance. Well, it was as if I was there with her, up there on the risers, as Ella thought to take hold of the little girl's hand discretely to prevent her from waving it around. I was experiencing what it was like for my six-year-old to have to focus so hard not to be distracted and sing and behave properly, and then summon that little bit of extra maturity to try to calm her neighbor without drawing extra attention.

I am having a hard time explaining what this is like without making it seem like I'm living through my kids in an unhealthy way. And I won't even try to explain how proud I was of them tonight, and how happy I am that they love to do this thing that is so GOOD for them.

Anyway, after their parts were done, then I could relax and enjoy the rest of the performance in a different way.

(Yes, of course I wept. As usual. Discretely.)

Let breakfast go too long

Without enough food, Madison becomes kind of the rebellious proletariat. She goes on a self-righteous revolt against the ruling class.

Ella, on the other hand, becomes the damaged princess. She dissolves into a cut-off-the-nose-to-spite-the-face attitude whereby she's not going to eat if The Help doesn't cater to her every whim.

The Leaves are Buried Under Snow

What do you think? Should I try to scrape them out with the garden rake and put it them in the street to see if the town will still collect them?

The girls and I had raked them three weeks ago into a nice jumping pile, but then it has been always too wet to jump.

And now they're here:


Although you can't see them because they're under the snow.

Pretty sure I shouldn't leave them there until spring.

Maybe I'll solve this after I solve the burst-pipe-issue in the attic bathroom.

House photos

I know that all five of you are just dying to see how the rearranged living room and church room look. Actually, when I'm lacking energy (as I often did this week because it was so busy), I just walk over and look at the living room, or bring the laptop into the Church Room now. What Tatiana did really made a difference.

We call this the Church Room because the last owners took the covered patio that was off the back of the living room and enclosed it, using the salvaged wood and stained glass from a church that was being torn down. The TV is now in back of me. We love this room, Christian symbols and all. I hate the carpet, but as the floor underneath is just flagstone, even this carpet is pretty cold. We'll have to solve that problem before we yank it up.



Don't you think that it's somehow appropriate that a bunch of atheists should have a Church Room? And now that I put the space heater in it, it's cozy.

This is the view from the living room with my back to the fireplace, looking out to the front of the house. It is a very long living room. My dream is to have the wall to the left and the wall in front covered with bookshelves, floor to ceiling. To do it right seems to be pricey, I have to track down this Menonite guy we met in the spring who does this kind of thing and see how he prices it.



This is the view of our Rumford fireplace (original to the house). The Church Room is out the door to the left. I vow to bake bread in the upper oven this year. We'll see how that works.

Forecast

Today:

Snow.


Tomorrow:
Snow and freezing rain.

Monday:
Several inches of snow. And wind.

Tuesday:
Lake-effect snow.

Wednesday:
Cold with snow developing (developing?!).

Thursday:
Snow showers.

Welcome to Rochester! I guess it's December.

We are ready with the neat snow ruler that Tom and Susan gave us for our housewarming present last year. Only up here in the Great White North can a housewarming present be a snow ruler.



Here is a photo of our cool new handmade weather measuring instruments:

The weathervane works particularly well; that's the little thing on the right that we made with straws and some oak tag; unfortunately the arrow blends in with the background so it's hard to see in the photo. We watched it whip around yesterday as a windy period came in, then it settled down to be consistently from the northwest or west. It's pointing west-northwest in the photo. Ella has a real knack for directions; she was always able to know which direction it was pointing. They found it interesting that the arrow points *into* the wind rather than away from it.